Sunday, 31 May 2015

Cody hadn’t said anything through all
this. Jason looked over at him sitting
next to Luigi and said, “Enough about me.
How’re you, Cody?”

Cody was startled out of his
thoughts. He’d been far away, worrying
again about Philippa and Luigi and their relationships. He ducked his head, shy with Jason, who
seemed to him to have everything: a beaut body; a handsome face; wealth;
confidence; charm; and now, to crown it all, a title. What he really felt was anger and jealousy,
and it didn’t help that he found Jason attractive or that Luigi had had sex
with him.

“Oh.
OK.” Cody thought that if he said
this strongly enough, they would believe him.
But the truth was, he was far from all right.

Jason looked at him and gave him a
smile of great sweetness and Cody felt ashamed of his hostility but also
paradoxically, even angrier. How dare
Jason also be charming! On top of
everything! It was so fucking unfair. What made it worse was that he couldn’t
get up and walk out. He had nowhere to
go. Luigi was friends with Jason, but he himself had no home to go to. On top of that, he might yet lose his
job. And then where would he live, without
money, without a job? And always, there was the fear that the killer would find
him again and this time, finish the job.

Saturday, 30 May 2015

“This calls for
champagne”, exclaimed Keith. He waved
the waiter over. “A bottle of Yellow,
please.” There was a little space of quietness
while they waited for the waiter to bring the bottle and some champagne flutes.

“Yeah. That’s my real name.
My surname is Armstrong-Beaufort. And I
have an honorary title, Viscount Saint-James.
And one day I will inherit my dad’s title and will become the 18th
Duke of Coniston. And yeah, I went to
Eton and everything they say about it is true.
My first sex was with a guy called Stewart, a sixth-former. And he was a toff too. Met him in the City afterwards, a few years
later, and he’d joined some investment bank and was oh so proper. Tool.”
He added, dispassionately.

“But won’t there be
pressure for you to have an heir? Isn’t
it like royalty? I mean, are you like a
crown prince or something?” Esmé was
resting her head on one hand, watching him with interest.

“That would be
ghastly! Imagine being royal—you could
never do what I’m going to. Or be
gay. Nah. There’s my brother Mark. He can inherit the title and the
estates. He doesn’t much like the fact
that I’m gay. He didn’t like Brent. So fuck him, I say.”

Keith looked at Jason
through narrowed eyes. “Is he as
good-looking as you?” he asked, with a sly smile.

Jason stared at him
coldly. “For that, peasant, it’s the
fishnet stockings and the whip when we’re alone later. You can wear the high heels. I’m not going to: they can’t be comfortable.”

“They’re not,” stated
Esmé. “Horrid uncomfortable things. But they do make you feel very glamorous.”

“I definitely naid that,”
said Keith with a grin.

“For sure,” said Luigi. “You could start by dumping those Target
jeans. So daggy.” His sparkling eyes belied his words and his
tone.

Friday, 29 May 2015

“Everybody here, in Oz I
mean, comes from somewhere else,” said Esmé slowly. “My parents were Yugoslav and Italian, and
yet, I’m neither. And not just because
they … because of what happened to me, but because this is a country which lets
you be what you want to be.”

“And?” invited Keith.

“And that means you can be
a lord all you want—“

“—I don’t want—“

“—but here in Oz, you’re
just Jason.” She turned sideways and
kissed him on his cheek.

He kissed her back. “I’m so glad I met you all,” he said, his
voice wobbling a little. “When I got
here I was so … things were so bad. I was
grieving and … I just wanted to hide, like a wounded animal. And then I met you all, and Eleanor and
Graeme, and now I feel happier. I’ll
never forget Brent or how I could have saved him if I’d been a better
person.” He looked away, his eyes dark
and his face drawn. He drew a deep
breath. “You guys made me welcome. You helped me heal. So.
I’m going to make a difference. A
difference in my new country.”

Monday, 4 May 2015

“Wai would never have guessed,” said Keith
drily. “All those airs and grices. Oi mayn, just so top drawer, ya knaow.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I
know. But I’m serious. I’m the son of a duke and I have a title of
my own. And when I came to Oz I wanted
to put all that behind me. Like I
said. But I just want to say, just
because I’m an in-bred toff doesn’t mean it will change anything between
us.” This confident assertion was spoiled
by him immediately saying, nervously, “Will it?” Before anyone could answer, Jason added, “I
didn’t want to tell you, well, because of Brent and the money thing, and
because, well, you know, maybe you would see me differently.” He looked away and swallowed. “I wanted you to be my friends. And I … well, I know you might feel strange
with me being a lord and rich and stuff.”

“It’s just,” explained
Jason eagerly, “that when I start this new home, I’ll want as much publicity as
possible to get donations. And you know
with a title, and a poncey accent I can maybe make this home a success.”

“Doesn’t matter to me,”
said Luigi. He smiled fondly at
Jason. “You’re not special because
you’re a fucking lord, mate.”

“Talkin’ of fuckin’ …”
said Keith with a wicked grin on his face, “haow come ya don’t go in for high
hayls and fishnet stockin’s, like all those Eton types?”

“Try anything once,” said
Jason with a relieved grin. “Even you, you idiot!”

Saturday, 2 May 2015

“The thing is,” Jason said when they
all had coffees in front of them, “I've got something to tell you. I didn't
want to say anything before, because I was … I was ashamed. Because of my
money, because of my arrogance I didn't help Brent until too late. It was my
fault he died. And I blamed my money for
making me arrogant. So what I decided was
that I would do without my money, it could rot, as far as I was concerned. And so could my so-called friends in England.
They always despised Brent, not because—not just
because he was gay—but even more because he was working class. And I did nothing about it. He was worth ten
of them.” He stopped and stared
away. When he looked back at them he had
tears in his eyes. He swallowed, and
produced an unconvincing grin. “Anyway,
I've decided to stay here in Australia. I'm going to found a home for gay kids who've
been thrown out of their homes by their parent.
So they won't have to go on the streets. Like you had to, Keith.”

“Cool!”—“Genius!”—“Wonderful!” His
three friends were enthusiastic. Cody
didn’t speak, but he nodded, unwilling to be a wowser.

Jason held up his hand. “Wait.
The thing is”—he looked away as he said this—“the thing is that I haven't
been honest with you all. Nobody knows this. It's … kind of embarrassing

Friday, 1 May 2015

Esmé didn’t answer her
phone, so Jason left her a message. She’s probly in a lecture, he
thought. He sent her a text message as
well. He wanted all his friends to be
together when he told them.

Esmé was old-fashioned
about using her smart-phone in lectures.
She turned it to silent when she was in one. So she only saw the message when she went to
get lunch in one of the uni cafés. She
had a prac until 5, but she could walk from the uni to Brunswick Street and get
to the café by 5.30. She texted back her
acceptance.

She wondered what he
wanted to tell her. He was special. She was in love with Keith but Jason was kind
and he had a lovely smile and he treated her as a real person. Keith and Jason and their friends might not be
perfect, but they were incomparably better than her father—and her mother,
too. But she thought more charitably of
her mother now. Even though she was
still angry at her mother for not protecting her when she’d been abused, she
understood intellectually, if not in her heart, how afraid her mother must have
been. She thought back to an article
she’d read in the newspaper, about battered women and how they often went back
to their husbands because they had no alternative, financially, or stayed with
them because they were afraid. The
article said that nearly a hundred women a year died in domestic violence. She could believe it.